Love Gave the Wound
by Firestar9mm
Summary: A collection of vignettes about the moments during the series that change certain character's paths and the reason such change came about.
1. Let's Play a Game: Tea Gardner

Disclaimer: I don't own "Yu-Gi-Oh!" but consider myself lucky to be able to watch it on TV and read it in _Shonen Jump_, because it always brightens my day. I also don't own Sir Philip Sidney's achingly gorgeous poem _Astrophel and Stella_, but since I've read it I think it now owns some small part of me.

This fic, the first in a series (hopefully), takes place in Burger World, when the escaped convict has Tèa Gardner hostage. And now, without further adieu, please accept my humble offering and have pity on me.

**

**Love Gave the Wound**

**

Let's Play a Game: Tèa Gardner

***

_Not at first sight, nor with a dribbed shot _

_Love gave the wound, which while I breathe will bleed._

(Sir Philip Sidney, from _Astrophel and Stella_)

**

It's so dark.

Great. The last thing I'm ever going to see, and it's the backs of my own eyelids. And it's not my life that flashes before my closed eyes, but a dream—ever since I was little, I've had this dream of a spotlight that's mine, a small stage to dance on, and a smile on my face. It's why I decided to get a job here at Burger World—to pay for my dance lessons, to go to America someday and have that spotlight. I remember how nervous I was—after-school jobs are against the rules, and you have to be eighteen to work at Burger World anyway. Eighteen seemed so old to me then, but it doesn't matter, since I'm not going to live to see eighteen as it is.

The man who's tied the blindfold around my eyes is holding my dream in one hand and a gun in the other, and it's his choice if I live or die. I can't see his face, but I know all about him—he's the escaped convict I heard about on the news. Why did he have to pick _this_ restaurant to barge into with his weapon? Our burgers aren't even that good.

I almost snicker wildly at the thought, but restrain myself. If I anger him, he might just kill me. I have a feeling he doesn't care about the stage, about my dream. He's got the spotlight right now. 

"If anyone makes a sound, the girl dies!" the escaped convict yells, shaking me a little for emphasis. 

I'm going to be a statistic. Even in death, I'm just going to be one of a thousand. I'll never get to dance on a stage, to make my own way.

It's official. This _can_'t get any worse.

But of course it can, as long as the convict has that gun. He's calling for vodka, for cigarettes. "You—the wussy little one over there! Be quick about it."

Wussy little one? Oh, no, he can't possibly mean...oh, shit.

"Yeah, you," the convict continues. "Bring the stuff over here."

Double shit. 

I decide to be brave and yell out a warning. "Yugi, it's you, isn't it? Go back, Yugi, it's too dangero—"

A stinging slap attacks me from outside the blindfold, rocking my dark world for a second. "Shut your goddamned mouth," the convict growls.

Great. Humilated _and_ bruised—I almost wish he'd killed me instead! If I live through this, I'm going to have quite a black-and-blue. 

There's little consolation in the thought that I probably _won't_ live to have the bruise.

That stupid moron Yugi didn't even listen to me—I hear him set the tray down on the table. 

"Hey, I didn't say you could sit down!" the convict snarls. What the hell does Yugi think he's doing? If he keeps it up, he might catch a bullet before I do.

"I've brought what you asked for," is the answer I hear. "I just thought I'd help you pass the time."

Idiot! What part of the word "GUN" doesn't he understand? He almost deserves to—wait a second. That confident voice can't be Yugi. It sounds like him, but it doesn't sound like him at the same time. Anyway, Yugi's got a spine like a Pixy Stix. He'd _never _sound so glib in front of an armed man! So it can't be Yugi...

...but then, _who_?

"Let's play a game," the mystery guy says, his voice full of its own music, like water running over rock. I can't see the convict's face, but I'm pretty sure we're wearing identical looks of surprise on our faces.

Or maybe not. The convict chuckles. "A game? Well...could be fun."

Game? Is this mystery guy crazy, or just oblivious to danger?

"However," the mystery man continues, "the one to _lose_ this game will _die_!"

Crazy. Yup, definitely crazy. Send the other contestants home, we have a winner.

"This game has only one rule," the mystery gamesman continues. "As long as we sit at this table facing each other, we may each move only one of our ten fingers. And once the game starts, that finger cannot change. But we are free to choose any finger we like. Which finger do you choose?"

"I choose my index finger, of course," the convict chuckles, and I hear him pull the hammer on the gun back. "It'll only _take_ one finger to blow you away!"

"Very well," the gamesman replies, unruffled. "Then I choose my thumb."

I've never been more desperate to see in my life. I have no idea what's going on, and all I can do is sit here like an idiot while they play this strange game. And why isn't the gamesman nervous? Is he wearing a bulletproof vest or something? How's one thumb going to save him?

What he says next shocks me even more. "After the signal to start, we are free to do anything. You can _even_ pull the trigger!"

This guy's not just crazy. He's a thundering _psycho_. Great, I'm stuck blindfolded at a table with _two_ lunatics! If I live through this, I _quit_!

The gamesman interrupts my thoughts. "Game start!" and I wait for the shot.

But it doesn't come. Instead I hear the convict chuckle, "And in one instant, it's game over!" There's the chink of glass as he pours some of the alcohol he asked for into a tumbler. I can almost feel him tense beside me, and I know he's squeezing down on the the trigger. All I am is holding breath, so I'm quiet enough to hear the sound that comes next, unmistakeable to me even in my blindness.

The metallic striking of a cigarette lighter, the hiss of the flame as it comes to life is almost deafening as I wait.

The shot still doesn't come. "Tch," the convict snorts. "Right! I forgot to ask for a lighter. Wasn't allowed to smoke on the inside...forgot all about it. Tell you what, kid, the last thing you can do before I send you to hell is light my cigarette."

There's the rustle and stretch of clothing—a jacket, probably—a bit of movement; sounds like the gamesman is obeying. "You can keep the lighter. Take it with you to hell."

The convict snorts, and then blows a puff of smoke in my face. "Thanks, kid, you're—huh?!"

What?

"You lose," the gamesman says softly, in that melting voice, and then there's heat by my arm—the lighter. It's warm and steady—resting on something. Damn this blindfold—what's happening? What's happening?

Something cold spills down off the table onto my skirt—the alcohol. Why hasn't the convict stopped pouring? Can't he move? What's happening? What has the gamesman done?

I don't have to wait long for the answer. The gamesman chuckles, a full, sweet sound, like dark chocolate. "Go ahead, pull the trigger, tough guy!" he taunts. "The recoil will make you drop the lighter for sure! And that's Russian vodka. It's 180 proof—90% alcohol!"

Oh, terrific. I'm not going to be shot, I'm going to be burnt to a crisp. I can't help but gasp, my whole body tensing. I'm not afraid of the gun anymore, I just want _out _of this. I should have just gotten a paper route or something.

And then a strong hand is on my arm, lifting me from the booth and steering me gently away. "Come on, Tèa." How does the gamesman know my name?

Cool air hits my fevered skin, and I fumble for the blindfold, desperate to see. I want to see the floors, the windows, the door that leads out of here, but mostly I want to see _him—_my crazy hero, the man who saved my life with his game. His face—I must see his face—

But as soon as I tear the blindfold from my eyes, a scream startles me into turning around. I see the convict wrapped in flames, and my heart thuds against my breastbone with fear. I stumble backwards, wanting to be as far away as I can get, with the Cup of Death still floating before my eyes. That could have been me—if not for _him_. It occurs to me that I haven't thanked the gamesman, and I turn around...

...but all I see is Yugi, who looks relieved. I'm happy to see him, but where's my knight in shining armor? Where's my gamesmaster?

"Yugi! Tèa!" Joey Wheeler yells, running over.

"Joey!" Yugi says, waving.

"Yo, you made it!" Joey cheers, pumping his fist in the air like a drum major. "What an idiot—the prisoner set himself on fire!"

"He saved my life," I murmur, although they're not listening. And just like that I'm chained. I'm not the same girl who tied her ribbon hurriedly before sneaking into her secret illegal job. Somehow I'm a whole new Tèa—the Tèa he saved from the gun.

"I didn't get to eat my hamburger!" Yugi whines. "I'm _starving_!"

Joey chuckles. "Me, too, since _somebody _drenched our burgers in ketchup." He winks at me and gives me a gentle elbow to the ribs. "Why don't we go to the Calorie Burger?"

"All right!" Yugi cheers. "That's the best idea I've heard all day!" The two boys walk towards the glass doors and turn back to look for me.

"Hey, ketchup girl," Joey teases. "You comin'?"

"In a minute." I nod almost mechanically, allowing myself one more sweep of the room, but there's still no sign of _him_. And how could I find him? I don't even know what he looks like. I follow Yugi and Joey outside into the twilight, looking up at the darkening sky.

_Well done, gamesmaster. You won my heart today. But where have you gone with your prize?_

**

Author's Notes:

I believe that one can rarely see change—that it sneaks up on us most of the time, and it's only in hindsight that we can look it over and appreciate what happened for what it really is. That's what I wanted to put down on paper here—the crystallization of the moments that change us and set us on the paths we take throughout our lives.

I adore the "Yu-Gi-Oh!" manga in _Shonen Jump_. I mean, I love _Shonen Jump _in general, but "Yu-Gi-Oh!" is far and away my favourite section. I especially love "Duel 4: Jailbreak", the scene I based this on—Yami Yugi's wild wild eyes as he plays his dangerous game, little Yugi's outrage when his beloved Anzu is mistreated by the escaped convict. 

I also love Sir Philip Sidney's _Astrophel and Stella—_rarely have I read such sharp and bloody imagery, as if Sidney dipped his pen in passion and pain, then scrawled his story across something blank and white. It's that emotion I sense in these characters—how people can go through life and suddenly, on some not so very special day, find the one who plays the song that only they can understand.

I was thinking of making this into a series of vignettes featuring more of the characters, but I'll let the readers help me make that decision if they read and enjoy this so far. Survey says? More chapters? I greatly appreciate any and all feedback. And if there's any way I can improve, I would love to hear that as well! Thank you.


	2. Come Dance With Me: Yami Yugi

Disclaimer: I don't own "Yu-Gi-Oh!", Sir Philip Sidney's _Astrophel and Stella_, or Dance Dance Revolution, and thanks SO much for rubbing it in. *^_^* On with the fic.

**

**Love Gave the Wound**

**

Come Dance With Me: Yami Yugi

**

_And now employ the remnant of my wit_

_To make myself believe that all is well,_

_While with a feeling skill I paint my hell._

(Sir Philip Sidney, from _Astrophel and Stella_)

**

I'm staring down at a syrupy sludge esteemed by these modern people as "soda". My stomach pleads with me not to attempt the drink the substance. I'm feeling sort of nervous as it is, and I don't think anything bubbly will help.

The reason I'm nervous is sitting across from me, sipping her own soda, looking less than bubbly herself. She seems as uncomfortable as I am, but every time I look up from my soda I catch her sneaking peeks at me. I can't tell if she's blushing or if it's rouge. Did she make herself up just to come see me?

"Hey, I know something we can do!" she says brightly, as if she's suddenly inspired. She fishes in her purse and waves a newspaper at me. "It's the new Egyptian exhibit at the museum. You might find it interesting. I'll go with you if you like. I bet we can even get Joey to come if we tell him there are nude carvings."

I raise my brows at her, a little startled, and she tries not to laugh at my expression. "That was a joke," she informs me gently, in the kind of voice you would use with a very young child. 

"Ah—we can do something else, if you don't want to see the exhibit," she tries, blinking those big blue eyes at me, and I suddenly feel guilty. Poor Tèa. She's trying so hard to make me smile, to lighten the mood, and I'm lost in my own thoughts. Poor thing—if Yugi was half as ambiguous with her as he was with me when he said we should "hang out", then she's probably thoroughly confused, and she's still being such a good sport about this.

"Tèa. Please forgive me," I tell that selfless smile. "I'm just...not very good company lately."

She tilts her head to one side, considering me, her hair falling over her shoulder. "It's all right. I'm right here with you, and I want to help. The way I see it, you shouldn't look at the unknown as your enemy. And no matter what happens, your friends will be right by your side, facing the challenge."

I smile at her. As ambiguous comforting lines go, it's a good one. I raise my cup of bubbly sludge in a mock toast. "To facing the challenge."

"Cheers." She taps her cup against mine, then sips. 

Hey, this soda stuff isn't half bad.

**

We walk down the streets, and she tries to fill my silence with chatter about weather, games, everything and anything that catches her fancy. I let her go on talking until I find myself becoming too interested in what she's saying, at which point I change the subject. I'm finding it easier to carry on a conversation with her—she's actually interesting, and it's much better than being locked in a puzzle with my own brain.

"Look, Tèa. Players can trade their Duel Monsters cards here," I say, looking in the window of a shop we're passing.

"It must be your lucky day!" Tèa chuckles happily, pulling me towards the shop. "Let's go check it out!"

She follows me around the shop, watching me as I look over cards and compare statistics. I feel much more comfortable in here—the cards have flip effects that are carefully outlined, attack points that tell me how strong they are. I know just how much damage they can take, and I don't have to worry that I might put them in danger. People are vastly different—they bruise and cry, they fear and dream, and sometimes their hearts break without warning. I don't know many people in this modern life, but the ones I do know are dear to Yugi Motou, and as such are dear to me as well. I worry about them constantly. Such fragile things, people.

"Who's she?" Tèa asks, interrupting my thoughts. She's looking at my cards over my shoulder. Sometimes I wonder if she ever gets sick of Duel Monsters—she ought to know the game better than anyone; she's watched us duel often enough.

"She is the Dark Magician Girl," I tell her, holding the card up for her to see.

"Cool," Tèa exults, taking it carefully to look at it more closely. "I didn't know there was a Dark Magician _Girl_."

I smile at her; I can't help it. "Sure there is. She's very special. When the Dark Magician gets sent to the graveyard, she gains extra attack points."

Tèa turns the card over in her hands, then handing it back to me. "So it's almost like she's avenging him."

I blink. "I've never thought about it like that before, but yes, you could say that."

Tèa seems to be thinking it over. "Good for her," she pronounces, nodding fiercely. The card seems to have struck a chord in her, and I wonder silently at her as we leave the shop, the bell above the door jingling its good-bye.

I look over my acquisitions with a grin as we walk down the street. Tèa watches me flip through the cards. "What's that one?" she asks, pointing.

"Life Force Sword," I tell her. "It's a very powerful trap card, and an excellent trade."

She laughs softly.

"What is it?" I ask, wondering if she's laughing at me or with me.

"Somebody's a little excited," she says, smiling at me.

I smile back and shake my head at myself. "Yes, I guess I am," I admit.

"Don't shake your head, I think it's great!" Tèa protests. "If you have something you love, you go ahead and love it. Don't let anything stop you."

It's good advice, and I'm in awe of her, a sage in a miniskirt and sandals that only have one strap.

"What do you love, Tèa?" I find myself asking.

She smiles, looking a little shy. "Dancing. I love to dance more than almost anything in the world. It's always been my dream to be a dancer, and someday I want to go to New York and study ballet!" The ferocity is back in her eyes, sparkling like sun on the water.

"And you will," I hear myself murmuring, my eyes locked on her. Somehow I _know_ it as I watch her move down the block, hear her tell me her dreams—she can do it, and she will.

"What did you say?" She stops, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

Somehow I can't say it to her face—I'm suddenly shy. "Nothing. What would you like to do now? I kept you in that card shop long enough—why don't you pick what we do next?"

When I see her grin I have a feeling I'm going to regret giving her the choice. She lights up as if someone's touched a match to her, and without warning she's grabbed my hand and we're off.

**

My head is spinning, and the loud electronic music ringing from every game in the place isn't helping. 

The arcade is where we finally ended up—Tèa and I must have walked up and down every street in Domino City. I'm ready to collapse from exhaustion, which doesn't make any sense— Tèa's wearing heels as high as candy canes and she's just as energetic as she was two hours ago. If she breathed on me, I wonder if I'd catch her enthusiasm?

"Come on, Yami," Tèa cajoles—she must have seen me frown as we walked past the "Lethal Enforcers" game. "You like games."

"Well, we didn't have 'Guilty Gear X' in Egypt, Tèa," I tease. 

"We don't have to _play_ 'Guilty Gear'," is her answer, and I chuckle. 

"Okay, what do you want—" I begin, but she's already run ahead, having seen something that catches her fancy. I follow her and find myself at the edge of a crowd. They're watching a dreadlocked man on a platform who appears to be...dancing?

"Who's next?" the dancer asks arrogantly. "Anyone think they have the moves to take on Johnny Steps?" His gaze sweeps the crowd and comes to rest on Tèa. I feel a snarl tickle my throat as his eyes slide over her body.

"You, girl in the pink! Wanna try your luck?" 

I sigh. "Why don't we just ignore him and go someplace else?"

"No way," Tèa says, hopping up onto the platform. I have just enough time to look surprised before her pink jacket is tossed onto my head. 

"Tèa! What are you doing?" I ask incredulously. "Besides treating me like a piece of furniture?"

"Having some fun," she answers, adding, "my little coat rack," with a smile and a wink.

I shake my head and frown, unable to bring out the full force of my icy glare on her. The game begins, synthesized pop music spilling over the crowd, arrows pointing six ways to Sunday on the large screen in front of Tèa and Johnny Steps. Tèa's smiling like it's her birthday, and I'm suddenly anxious to see her dance, to see her do this thing she claims to love.

_I believe in miracles, baby, I believe in you_

I watch them dance, and Tèa's never looked more alive to me. Does she walk through the rest of her world half-asleep and only fully wake when the music runs through her? Is that love—her bright-eyed smile, the focus with which she moves? Do I look like that when I duel—when I love? 

_They say the day is ending_

_Let's watch the sun go down and plan a holiday for two_

_For all eternity I'm gonna try so you can see the world I've created just for you_

I try to figure out the object of the game as I watch. Apparently they're dueling, but instead of cards or dice, they're using the dance itself as a weapon—whoever uses the platform's pressure plates in the correct sequence gets more points and wins the game. An unorthodox method of dueling, but still a—

Hey, Tèa's good.

In fact, she's _great_, I realize as I pay closer attention to the game. She's moving through the sound as if it belongs to her, every movement graceful and lovely. She steps and spins, her shoes flickering over the lighted platform as she dances, dominating the game effortlessly.

_Oh I saw you standing on the street_

_I wanted to meet you and talk for a while _

_You gave me a smile and said hello_

_You're everything so good inside that I realized that I couldn't hide_

_Defending the game when you felt the same_

I can hear her win the crowd over as the dance continues.

"Hey, that girl's good."

"She's busting moves that even Johnny can't do!"

"Hey, the chick's beating him!"

"That girl is so awesome!"

Tèa's not paying attention to any of them. She has ears only for the music, and all she wants to do is dance. It's very nice to watch her do something that makes her happy, so I'm even more angry than I would usually be when her opponent trips her. The crowd doesn't sound too pleased either.

"Foul!" 

"No fair, Johnny!"

"She's _still _beating him!"

I'm all set to rush the platform and knock the stuffing out of that cheater when I realize that Tèa's regained her feet without missing a count in her dance. She's not smiling anymore—instead she looks even more determined to do well, and her moves are almost violent in their grace, their precision.

I realize my hands are curled into fists, my teeth clenched. "You can do it," I murmur. "You can do it, Tèa."

_I believe in miracles_

_I believe in miracles_

_I believe in miracles_

_Don't you?_

Tèa's opponent is unnerved by her skill and her determination—he's getting nervous, making mistakes, and when the game ends, Tèa turns to me and grins, with the words "New High Score" on the big screen behind her. The crowd is clapping and cheering for her, but it's my hands she reaches for. I help her off the platform and hand her back her jacket. "Wow," is all I can say.

She smiles. "Not bad, huh?"

I smirk. "Not bad at all."

**

Tèa's leaning on the boardwalk railing, watching the sunlight on the water. "Isn't it beautiful?" she asks.

"More than I realized," I say, but I'm not looking at the sea at all. 

"You were great today," I add, and mean it.

She turns away from the ocean to smile at me. "Praise from Caesar."

The wind ruffles her hair and I realize that she's managed to make me forget my troubles, over and over again, all day. She's given me confidence again, just as Yugi promised she would. I want to repay her somehow, but I don't know where to begin.

"Hey losers, behind you!" a voice calls, and we turn to see the recently-dethroned Johnny Steps. Tèa frowns. "What do you want now?"

I smirk and can't help it. I _can_ give her something, and it's my specialty. "Tèa, may I finish off your opponent?"

She chuckles. "Sure. You deserve a little fun. Don't be too rough with him, though—I think the dance battle wore him out!"

We share a smile, and I feel very warm despite the chill wind around us.

"All right, Johnny," I say to the dancer. "If I beat you in a game of Duel Monsters, you must promise not to bother Tèa anymore."

"Fine with me," he snorts. "But if _I_ win, the girl's gotta go on a date with me!"

My eyes narrow and my lips curl into a smirk. "Sorry, Johnny," I say, standing between him and Tèa. "She's with me."

**

"Thanks for saving me from a date with Johnny," Tèa giggles as we watch the sun become a bloody smudge at the edge of the world. I'm basking not only in its light, but in her praise. I don't think I've ever enjoyed winning a duel more, except for possibly dueling Pegasus. At any rate, there was no way in hell I was going to subject her to a date with _that_ dancing fool, but I decide to tease her a little bit.

"What? You didn't want to go out for a romantic evening with Johnny Steps?" I tease.

She smiles. "About as much as a toothache. Thanks again for your help—you really saved my life!"

"You're very welcome, Tèa. It was the least I could do." How sad, that the least I could do is my very best. 

She's silent for a few minutes, her smile fading. She doesn't frown, but her blue eyes go distant. "Yami? Do you think she misses him?"

I blink in confusion; the question's caught me by surprise. "Does who miss who, Tèa?"

"The Dark Magician Girl. Do you think that she misses the Dark Magician when she's summoned? Do you think she'd give up the extra points if it meant she would have him back from the graveyard?"

I look at her, silhouetted against the bleeding sky, the wind teasing her hair. I suddenly want very much to comfort her, as she's comforted me. 

"Maybe...she knows he's with her, adding his strength to hers," I say slowly, thinking about it for the first time. I walk to where she's resting against the boardwalk railing and turn her gently to face me. "They're partners, and they work together. Even when he is struck down, he helps her, and he knows she will always fight for him."

"Partners," Tèa says, looking at me very closely. "I like the sound of that."

"Thank you for today, Tèa," I say softly. "It was very nice of you to spend the day with me."

"You don't have to thank me, I had a wonderful time. I like you, you know," she tells me.

I shake my head. "Yugi—"

But she interrupts me. "No, I _like_ you," she repeats. "I like _you_." 

I don't know what to say.

"And," she continues, a little shyly, "if you wanted to...you know...hang out...again sometime, that might be nice."

The day's events form a slideshow in my mind, and I want to simply be free to do as she asks. "I would like that," I tell her, but my heart sinks as I say the words. Yugi just randomly shoved me out into the spotlight today, and who knows when it will happen again? It's Yugi's choice, Yugi's world, and technically I have no place here. Will I ever get a chance to spend a day like this with Tèa again? And if so, when?

We came out here to get a line on my past, but suddenly, all I want to know about is my future. "I think that you're right about that Egyptian exhibit," I tell her, trying to lighten the mood. "It might hold some clues to my past. I'm unsure about it, but you're right—I shouldn't be afraid."

"Right," she clarifies. "And your friends are going to be with you, every step of the way. Promise." 

"Shall we, then?" I offer her my arm and wait nervously...

...but she takes it right away. "Let's go!"

I smile and we walk down the street, past the shops and streetlamps. I focus on Tèa's arm wrapped around mine, the click of her sandals on the pavement, the scent of her perfume—anything to keep me from seeing my reflection in the shop windows. Its eyes stare almost balefully back at me—Yugi's eyes, the eyes of my lighter half, my prison, my fate, the shadow that I will always live in.

Tèa touches my arm lightly as we cross the street, and I remember my words to Johnny Steps as that reflection stares me down.

_It's your world, Yugi. But today...she's with me._

**

**Author's Notes**:

Yami Yugi is a wonderful character—he's mysterious and tragic, every inch a king. Yami is tragedy in its purest form, and it is he that I thought of first when I read Sidney's _Astrophel and Stella_, because I can hear his deep, dark voice cursing the heavens and bleeding for love. 

I love to play Dance Dance Revolution, and I am not nearly as good at is as Tèa, but I have tons of fun when I do play, because I love to dance. I was thrilled when they used the game in the episode this fic is based on, because I love the idea of a dance battle. I don't remember which artist recorded "I Believe in Miracles", but it is my all-time favourite DDR song, so I wanted to include it in this story. *^_^*

Reviews are greatly appreciated—should I keep going?


	3. The Boy Who Stole the Stars: Mai Valenti...

Disclaimer: I don't own "Yu-Gi-Oh!", Sidney's _Astrophel and Stella_, or any music from _Chrono Cross_. However, I do own two kick-ass pairs of knee boots, and can only hope one day to run in them without tripping like Mai can.

This section takes place in Duelist Kingdom, right after Yugi wins Mai Valentine's chips back from arguably one of the strangest characters in the series, the eliminator, Panik (but then, I'd probably be angry too, if I were a huge man in eyeliner with a name like Panik). Mai's reluctant to take the chips because she feels she didn't earn them; Joey sees an opening, and...

**

**Love Gave the Wound**

**

The Boy Who Stole the Stars: Mai Valentine

**

_Till by degrees it had full conquest got_

_I saw and liked, I liked but loved not._

(Sir Philip Sidney, from _Astrophel and Stella_)

**

May all the Harpie Ladies in the universe curse this brute if he steals my star chips!...

"Cuz ya know, if she doesn't want 'em, I'll be happy to take 'em off her hands. Her loss, my gain." Joey Wheeler steps forward, almost swaggering, to scoop the star chips that Yugi just won back for me out of the shorter boy's gloved hand. "Jackpot," Joey snickers, shaking the chips so that they make a _chicka-chicka_ sound in his hand.

"Hey!" I sputter. "Give those back!"

"Whatsamatter, Mai?" Joey taunts, shaking his hand at me like a star-chip maraca. "You didn't seem to want 'em when Yugi offered 'em to you."

"That—was—different," I say through gritted teeth. "He won them _honorably_ in a duel for me, and I didn't want to be in debt to him. _You're _just being a pain in the ass!"

"Thanks, I work hard," Joey chuckles, bowing to me slightly for a joke. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be taking my new star chips and heading off to my next duel. I'm sorry I can't stay to escort your cute little butt to the docks to get the next boat off the island, but hey, I'm a busy guy. I got duels to win."

I'm torn between my pride and the chips. I rely on myself if I want something, and I really don't want to have to owe Yugi Motou because he won the chips back from Panik after I lost. But I'll be _damned_ if I'll let Joey Wheeler the dueling _monkey_ make off with the star chips that are rightfully mine!

Yugi's shaking his head at Joey's antics. Tèa's cradling her head in her hands as if she's embarrassed to be seen with these characters. Even Tristan, who's usually Joey's partner in crime, is looking a little embarrassed for his friend. But Joey's on a roll—he can't stop now.

"Yup, I'll be at that castle in no time! I'll send you a postcard, Mai. It's Valentine, right? Is that V-A-L—"

I can't stand it any more. "You think me losing all my star chips is _funny_, Joey Wheeler?" 

"You want 'em?" he asks, holding his hand out to me, and I make a swipe for it, but he quickly raises his hand above his head. "Too slow!"

In jeans and Nikes, he's taller than I am in my boots. He holds the chips out of my reach without even straining, and even in my stillettos I can't get to them. I end up bracing one hand against his chest and swiping at the chips with the other like a helpless kitten. He's warm and solid and utterly immovable against me, but I try anyway. "Give them back! Give them—"

Without warning, Joey tips his open hand onto my reaching one so that they're palm to palm, the chips pressed between them. I'm surprised by the action and stumble against him, but he's rock steady to catch me, bracing me against his chest. His heartbeat's calm and regular; his smile never wavers, our hands still pressed together above my head.

"Of course, you c'n have 'em," he tells me gently, his wood-brown eyes friendly and guileless. "They're yours."

He lets go of my hand, leaving me the chips, and I step back absently, looking at them. "Really, Joey?" I hear myself asking, almost timidly.

"Really, really." He smiles. "Didn'tcha learn anything from the duel? If you keep shields up all the time, you'll never get to know people. Let down your shields, just this one time, okay?" He goes so far as to give me a playful little shove, and I'm so bewildered I can't even react, wobbling on my heels.

I look at the chips again and realize that he could have taken them. He needs them more than I do—he's always crowing about that sister of his and how she needs some kind of operation. Me, I'm in this purely for the money, and I'd lost those chips to the eliminator. By rights, after Yugi defeated Panik and won the chips, Joey could have taken them and never looked back.

It's something I might have done.

But he didn't take them. He could have sent me packing, and still he gave them back, his explanation being simply that they were mine. It's one of the nicest things anyone's ever done for me, and I wasn't nice to him at _all_. Vengeance was his and he gave me back my chance. Now I'm not only in Yugi's debt, but in Joey's as well.

"All right," I say softly, in answer to his request. "Maybe just this once."

"Good for you, Mai," Joey exults. "Now, was that so hard?"

"Hey, don't rub it in," I say, with a momentary return to wit. "If you tell anybody that I dropped my shields, I may have to kill you."

"Your secret dies with me." He grins cheekily, and I feel like pinching his face. Something about Joey Wheeler makes me want to hug and strangle him at the same time. 

"Keep teasing me, and that secret may die with you sooner rather than later." I blink at him, unable to help it—I'm exhausted. This has been one of the longest days of my life. "It's getting late. You guys might want to find a safe place to camp."

"Good idea," Tèa says through chattering teeth, shivering. "I'm freezing to death in this miniskirt."

"I hear you there, hon," I tell her—I'm not exactly dressed for the Arctic either. "I'm going to head up that way. Next time let's meet up somewhere a little warmer, okay?" I sling my bag over my shoulder and turn to face them. "Thanks again for all you've done."

"All in a day's work," Yugi says cheerfully.

"See you around, Mai." Joey winks at me. "And keep an eye on those chips—I want 'em to be there so I can win 'em from you later."

"In your dreams, Joseph," I say absently. I just can't muster up my usual biting sarcasm. 

"You know it," he chuckles, raising one arm in a wave as he rejoins his friends. "I'm such a sensitive guy, ain't I?"

"Give us a break, Joey!" Tèa groans as they start to walk away. 

"Yeah, right!" Tristan adds. "Sensitive to _who_?"

"Hey!" Joey argues.

"Here we go," Bakura mutters, shaking his head with a bit of a smile.

I watch them get smaller and smaller in the darkness, Yugi's hair catching a bit of moonlight, Joey and Tristan's argument getting harder and harder to hear, Bakura's white sweater looking like a distant ghost. What a strange night this has been for me, but I have a feeling that for them it's the usual fare.

Finally, when I can't see them anymore, can't hear their good-natured teasing, I load the rescued star chips back into my dueling glove, watching them gleam dully in the stingy moonlight.

_They'll be here, Joseph. Come and get them._

**

Author's Notes:

Mai Valentine is a cool character, and I have to give her credit—the only time I ever tried to wear stillettos, I fell down a set of stairs at a club and busted my ass. *^_^* What's _really_ cool to me, though, is how Joey manages to get past her shields every time, whether it's to yank her chain or make her smile, and they are arguably the cutest anime couple I have ever seen. I love the gradual turn of Mai's thoughts to him, and his bravado regarding her, but yet they keep ending up in the same places. Good for them. *^_^*

I have to love the episode in which Yugi duels Panik—my sixteen-year-old younger sister claims to hate the show, but I asked her to record it for me one day and she grudgingly admitted that she found Yugi's strategy regarding the Castle of Dark Illusions very clever, and got very animated when explaining it to me. She still claims to hate the show, but when Joey dueled Weevil in Battle City, she beat around the bush for a while before asking if I had recorded the second episode, because she wanted to watch it so she could see who won—it was going to bother her unless she did. Heh, heh. I'll make a convert out of her yet, even if she still insists Yugi's hair is a hat. *^_^*

The title for this chapter came from one of my favourite pieces of music of all time—The Girl Who Stole the Stars from the _Chrono Cross_ video game. Never having played the game, I don't know, but if I had asked the Powers That Be to please write me a song to cry to while watching the ocean, that's what they would have handed me. I love it, quite possibly, to death.

How's my driving? Another chapter? Reviews are greatly appreciated.

  
  



	4. Private Exhibition: Seto Kaiba

Disclaimer: I do not claim to own anything—"Yu-Gi-Oh!", poetry about insects, or any blouses that are not middriff. Should I be sorry for that? ^frowns^.

This section takes place after Duelist Kingdom, when Ishizu Ishtar invites Seto Kaiba to her museum to discuss destiny...and a few other things.

**

**Love Gave the Wound**

**

Private Exhibition: Seto Kaiba

**

_But straight I saw motions at lightning grace,_

_And then descried the glist'ring of his dart:_

_But ere I could fly thence, it pierced my heart._

(Sir Philip Sidney, from _Astrophel and Stella_)

**

She's waiting for me in the museum lobby like the spider for the fly, and her smile is reflected in the polished floor tiles. She's so still, as if she herself were a statue in her own collection. But statues don't have ebony hair, don't have eyes as black as the floor I'm walking across. The necklace around her throat is real gold and looks heavy enough to crush her rather dainty-looking collarbone, but she wears it as if it were a part of her.

"Good evening, Seto Kaiba. I am Ishizu Ishtar."

Of course she is Ishizu Ishtar, from the glimmering circlet atop her midnight hair to the soles of her soft slippers. She can't _be_ anyone else.

"Where are the other guests?" I ask, looking around at the empty echoing lobby. 

She smiles silkily. "I said this was a private exhibition, didn't I? We are quite alone."

Quite alone is way more alone than I want to be with her. Her voice is like the musical purr of a cat to its dinner, and I'm not in the mood to be dinner. "It's been two minutes, Ishizu, and I'm already bored." I turn to leave, but she's ready for me.

"I thought you wanted power, Seto Kaiba?" she asks sweetly.

"What do you mean?" I ask suspiciously.

"It's why I called you out here. Are you interested in owning a card more powerful than Exodia?"

Oh, boy. She's got _my_ number all right. I stumble mid-step as I stop walking and turn to face her. "You're bluffing. I know everything there is to no about Duel Monsters, and no such card exists."

"You're wrong, Seto Kaiba. The game of Duel Monsters is based on the Shadow Games of ancient Egypt, except that in those times the monsters were ..._real_."

"That's impossible," I tell her immediately. "There are no such things as monsters." But I sound like a scratchy recording: No such thing, no such thing.

Ishizu shakes her head. "Again, you've been misinformed, Kaiba. The Shadow Realm is indeed real, and its monsters are out in force today. Maximilian Pegasus fell in love with the game and adapted it for modern times in the form of cards, but it's no surprise he kept the most powerful monsters for himself."

I shake my head. "It doesn't add up. If Pegasus had such powerful cards, why didn't he use them on me at Duelist Kingdom?"

"Pegasus feared the power of the Egyptian god cards I speak of," Ishizu explains. Her eyes are so black that she looks blind as she turns her gaze to me. "He was wary...and afraid. Are you afraid, Kaiba?"

"No," I say, my voice suddenly scratchy with the idea. A card more powerful than Exodia the Forbidden One—no one could beat me, not even that little runt Yugi.

She walks deeper into the museum, a gliding movement that's almost spooky, as if there weren't a full set of legs under her skirt. "Follow me if you are a brave man. If you are a coward, then leave."

She disappears from sight, having sprung her trap. I'm two feet away from the sliding glass door, and my limo is purring outside, waiting to carry me home. All I have to do is leave and my life can return to normal. Her insults don't mean anything to me, and I have no reason to believe that she's got a card more powerful than Exodia—there's no proof of that.

All I have to do is walk out the door.

With an almost reluctant sigh, I follow Ishizu down the dark hallway.

"Good man," she says as she melts out of a shadow, as if I've passed some kind of test. "Follow me." She glides past the artifacts like a spirit, her flats making no noise on the polished floor. She looks as though she herself is a part of the exhibit, as if she could climb into one of the sarcophagi and be at peace.

She stops at a stairway that seems to lead down into the earth itself. I'm reminded again of the poem about the spider and the fly—"whoever goes up your winding stairs can ne'er come down again." Only here, getting down isn't the problem. The trouble will come when I want to go back up.

"We keep the most precious artifacts down here," Ishizu tells me, waving a graceful hand to display a stone tablet scarred with hieroglyphics. "This tablet depicts an ancient battle between the pharaoh and his greatest nemesis."

"Wait a minute," I say, squinting at the stone carvings. "That's no pharaoh. That's Yugi!" It _is_ Yugi, carved in stone—I'd recognize that ludicrous hairstyle anywhere. "And the monster he's summoned—it's the Dark Magician!"

Ishizu's eyes are so bright, someone may have touched a match to them. "Very perceptive. But the true surprise will come when you see his enemy—or rather, when you see his enemy's monster."

_Please, no_, I think as I look up at the opposite side of the tablet, but it's there, carved in stone. "It's a dragon," I say, swallowing the lump of cold terror that's suddenly blocking my throat.

"Not just any dragon," Ishizu says ominously. "A Blue Eyes White Dragon." She walks boldly up to me, her eyes burning into mine. "_Your_ dragon, Seto Kaiba."

"Impossible!" I say through gritted teeth. "There's no way! I don't have to listen to any of this!"

"No, but you can look," she says. "If you do not believe what you see here, perhaps a glance into the past will convince you—with the help of my Millenium Necklace."

Aforementioned necklace gleams around her bronze throat as she presses dream-visions into my head, visions of sand and stone and a battle that will remain forever unfinished. It's too much for me, and I'm suddenly on my hands and knees, my briefcase tossed aside, my own name forgotten. 

"Kaiba? Seto Kaiba?" Ishizu's tone is concerned as she kneels beside me—it wouldn't do for her to kill me before she's got whatever it is she wants from me. What that is, I don't know, but it's something. She said she brought me here to give me power, but I'm rich enough to know that nothing is free. If an exotic stranger promises you untold power and asks you to meet them in a dimly-lit modern tomb, be sure they want something from you.

The question is, what's her price?

"Get...out...of...my...face," I say slowly, as soon as I am sure I have enough breath to speak.

"Now do you believe in destiny?" she asks fiercely. The necklace gleams as she offers me her hand, an eye in the middle of her throat; a grotesque idea, but she pulls me to my feet, no less lovely. I wonder at her, at her careless grace in a room full of crumbling death. It's as if she truly is Isis of the Ten Thousand Names, Queen of the Dead. Could you say no, in your last moments, to eyes like that?

"I make my own destiny," I tell her, and luckily my voice is not shaky. "I do what I want." And yet my feet stay anchored to the tiled floor. _I am your victim, Goddess_.

She blinks at me, her beliefs dueling with mine in our faces, our eyes. Rather than continuing the argument, she points to a section of the stone tablet where the hieroglyphics have worn away. "The winner of the duel was written here, but it is indecipherable." Then she turns my gaze to the top of the tablet, where monsters gather, frozen in stone. "This is the part that will interest you. See them." She points to each monster in turn. "Obelisk, the Tormentor. Slyfer, the Sky Dragon. The Winged Dragon of Ra."

"Those are the Egyptian god monsters you mentioned earlier. You're saying Pegasus made them into cards?" I ask incredulously. 

She nods her dark head. "Possess one and you are a force to be reckoned with. Wield all three and the earth itself will quake with fear!"

Her voice seems to own me as her necklace owns its visions of the past. She says the words "quake with fear" and I obey against my will.

"What did Pegasus do with such powerful cards?" I ask, silently begging her to tell me. Her answer is grave, ringing with importance.

"He gave them to me, for safekeeping."

Who _is_ this woman?

Ishizu continues. "But the cards have been stolen by a group of rare hunters, and I need your help to retrieve them."

I arch a brow at her. "My help? What can I do?"

"If you hold a tournament, Seto Kaiba, it will bring top duelists from around the world. "It will be the biggest collection of rare cards in one place—"

"—And the rare hunters won't be able to resist," I realize, the discovery dawning on my face. "They'll come like vultures to a carcass, and they'll bring the Egyptian god cards." I smirk. "I like the way you think, Ishizu Ishtar. I'll hold your tournament, but not because I believe your little fairy tale. I want to reclaim my title as world champion."

Ishizu smiles and holds something up to me. A playing card. "Then you'll need this."

I take the card and look at the vicious monster painted on it. It looks oddly familiar..."Wait a minute. It can't be!" I snap my head to look at the carvings again. "Obelisk the Tormentor!"

Ishizu is looking like the Egyptian cat goddess who ate the canary. 

"You said the cards were stolen," I accuse.

"I never said they were _all_ stolen," is her answer. "I managed to retrieve this one in time. You may borrow it for the tournament, but remember, this card is on loan from the Ishizu Ishtar collection." She smirks. "I expect it back."

"What makes you think you can trust me?" I ask, flapping the card lightly against my hand. "I could walk out of here right now and you'd never see it again."

"You _will_ return the card to me," Ishizu says, her voice a silken hiss. "I have foreseen it." The necklace seems to follow me as I turn to leave.

"Why don't you turn your all-seeing eyes to visions of my victory?" I ask. "It's been a pleasure doing business with you, Ishizu Ishtar."

"And the pleasure's all yours." Her voice echoes off the dark walls, following me out as I walk up the stairs. I smirk as I look at the card in my hand.

_Indeed, my benevolent goddess. What else do you see in my future?_

**

**Author's Notes:**

Mmm...Kaiba. The trench coat is perfect symbolism for him to wear, as his moods swirl around him and trail behind him as he moves. Kaiba is enigma; no wonder every Yugi fan I know is a little bit in love with him. The lure of the bastard—I'm guilty of it, too. 

I especially like the episode containing the meeting between Kaiba and Ishizu. Dice are rolling as soon as Kaiba walks in the door—each has their own agenda, and will stop at nothing to get what they want. Ishizu gives up the card as a means to an end, but as is usual with the CEO, he's thinking about the end, not the means. He doesn't pay any attention to Ishizu's warnings, and that means may become an end in itself!...I love their verbal sparring, diplomacy, bravado, veiled insults, blatant insults. No wonder Kaiba's such a good businessman. 

I think this is my favourite out of all the chapters so far, with Yami Yugi a close second. But I have a few more in me, I think. Reviews of all kinds are greatly appreciated as always *^_^*


	5. Open My Eyes: Serenity Wheeler

Disclaimer: I do not own "Yu-Gi-Oh!" or Sir Philip Sidney's _Astrophel and Stella_, but I do own a gorgeous laptop like Tristan's, which I have named "Exodia, the Forbidden Laptop". Yes, I am a little bit crazy. *^_^*

This section takes place during Battle City, when Serenity is recovering in the hospital after her eye surgery, and she and Tristan watch Joey duel yet another player who claims to be psychic (he doesn't have much luck with that, does he? First Mai, then Esper) on Tristan's laptop. Is there anything a good laptop _can't_ do? *^_^*

**

**Love Gave the Wound**

**

Open My Eyes: Serenity Wheeler

**

_If that be sin which in fixt hearts doth breed_

_A loathing of all loose unchastity,_

_Then love is sin, and let me sinful be._

(Sir Philip Sidney, from _Astrophel and Stella_)

**

He comes in to see me as often as he can, always in a good mood and full of news about the outside world. The rest of my brother's friends have come to see me as well, but he's the one who visits most often, and he always seems so happy to see me.

Which touches my heart, because I can't see him.

I've been in this hospital with my head wrapped in gauze for a week, and one of the only things that's kept me from jumping out the window is Tristan Taylor, my brother's best friend. Whether Joey's with him or not, he's visited me nearly every day, bringing me little presents like licorice whips and spare batteries for my CD player. But most of all he brings himself—his jokes and stories, his observations and complaints. Right now, he's my only link to the world beyond my bandages.

I can always tell when it's him at the door—his sneakers squeak on the floor or I get a whiff of his cologne. He tries to surprise me, but I can always tell.

"Guess who?" he asks as he walks into my room.

"Tom Cruise?" I ask, pretending to be excited.

He chuckles. "Sorry, it's only me, Tristan."

"Oh, well. You'll do, I guess," I tease, patting the sheet. "Come sit with me." I feel his weight settle on the bed beside me, and a scraping sound as he pulls the wheeled table across the floor towards him.

"Wait'll you hear what I brought you," he says excitedly, and I reach my hands out instinctively. I touch something metal, something flat and cool.

"It's a laptop," Tristan tells me. "KaibaCorp is broadcasting the Battle City tournament on the internet, so we can watch your brother duel right now!"

I think I'm blushing. "That's really cool, Tristan, but...I can't see the screen."

He chuckles. "I know that, but never fear, Tristan's here. I'll give you the up-to-the-minute play-by-play."

Oh. "Okay," I say, settling down in my bed. "Let's hear it!"

"One duel simulcast, coming up!" Tristan cheers. 

After some consternation regarding the use of the laptop, it's humming on the little wheeled table and Tristan's navigating the keyboard. "Okay, got it! Joey's dueling right now!"

"Oh? Who?" I ask.

"Somebody named Esper Rova," Tristan says. "Don't worry, though. I'm sure Joey will do fine. He didn't come in second at Duelist Kingdom for nothing!"

I grin. "That's right." I'm so proud of Joey—my brother, my hero.

"And with you cheering for him, he'll have the best of luck," Tristan says. "Who could lose with you on their side?"

I feel my face get hot. "Aww...go on."

"I'm serious!" Tristan continues. "You were his lucky charm in Duelist Kingdom. Whenever he felt like giving up, all we had to do was mention your name and he was up and fighting again. You're quite a motivator."

I squirm in my bed under his praise. "He wanted to help with my eye surgery so badly..."

"Well, who wouldn't want to help you?" Tristan asks softly, and his hand slides across the sheet to touch mine. I wish I could see, wish he couldn't, because I'm sure I'm blushing. 

"Um...how's the duel going?" I ask, to break the uncomfortable silence.

"Huh? Oh—the duel. Yeah. Joey's kicking as—um, he's really pounding the guy!"

I smile and can't help it at his correction of the swear, like a gentleman. "So he's doing well?"

"You betcha!" Tristan squeezes my hand, and something in his voice makes me suspicious—it's too cheerful, too loud, as if he's trying to convince himself...or me.

A knock on the door startles both of us. "Hello, Serenity!" a nurse says sunnily. "It's time for me to check your vitals."

"Hi, Nancy," I say with a rueful smile, recognizing her voice. I feel so helpless in here, trapped in my bed, unable to see, on a first-name basis with the staff. "This is my friend Tristan."

"Good to meet you," she says. "Are you taking good care of Serenity?"

I start to smile, but Tristan answers immediately, "I wouldn't let anything happen to Serenity." His voice is very solemn, and I'd give almost anything to see his face at that moment. Damn these bandages. 

"I'll just excuse you," Tristan says, and I feel his weight leave the bed. "I've got to make a phone call, but I'll be back in time to see your brother smash that other duelist!"

"Okay," I giggle. "Don't miss it!"

"Wouldn't dream of it," he laughs, and the hallway makes his voice echo.

"Is he gone, Nancy?" I ask. 

"Yes. This won't take a minute, though, and then he can come back and you two can continue your visit. Okay?"

I sigh. "Do you think you could help me?" I ask. "The laptop—can you tell me who's winning the duel?"

I hear the clicking of keys. "What's your brother's name?"

"Joey," I tell her. "Joey Wheeler."

"Well, this says that Joey Wheeler is at six hundred and fifty life points, and Esper Rova is at eleven hundred and fifty. Does that help?" she reports, confirming my suspicions.

"Oh, yes. Thank you, Nancy," I say, and she continues her work.

When Tristan returns, he's even more cheerful than before. "Okay, what'd I miss? I bet Joey's just about to deliver the knockout punch." He sits back down on the bed, his weight a warm comfort at my side.

"You're so sweet, Tristan," I murmur. "But you don't have to continue lying to me."

His panic is almost touchable, even to a blind girl. "Ah—what're you talking about?"

I shake my head and smile. "I know you're just trying to help. But you don't have to worry I'll be disappointed in Joey. He's my big brother, and he could never disappoint me. He's always been there for me, no matter what, and now it's my turn to be there for him. But I can't do that if I don't know what's going on, okay?" I tell him gently, reaching for where I think his arm should be.

"You're right," he says softly. "I'm sorry I lied, Serenity."

I smile at him. I'm not angry with him. The lie was a loving one, and I think it's sweet. My blindness wasn't the reason he tried to hide the duel results—he'd have done that even if I could see. He just didn't want to tarnish my brother's image in my mind. "Don't worry about it. Now, what's going on with the duel?"

He tells me. "...so now they're—hey!"

Hey? "What's 'hey'?"

"Hey, as in, hey, the counter just moved! Esper Rova's at zero life points—Joey's won!"

I flop back onto my pillows in relief. "Yes! I knew he could!"

"Go, Joey!" Tristan cheers, taking my hands and swinging them a little in a sort of victory dance. "See, I told you he'd be okay! You're a great cheerleader, Serenity!"

"Yayy, Joey!" I giggle, giving his hands a little squeeze. We laugh and celebrate for a few minutes, and then a tiny beeping sound interrupts. It's Tristan's digital wristwatch. It goes off every day as the afternoon turns to evening, telling me that my day's highlight is over.

"I've got to go," he sighs. "But I'm going to leave the laptop here so you can keep up on the tournament, okay?"

"Thank you, Tristan!" I say gratefully. "But how will I know what's going on without your expert play-by-play?"

He chuckles. "I'll be back. But if I'm not around, I'm sure someone can tell you what's going on."

"No one can do it like you can, Tristan," I say wistfully, and it's not entirely teasing.

He lifts my hand off the bed, and I feel a soft brush of warmth across my knuckles—a kiss. "Then I'll just have to come back."

"Tomorrow?" I ask hopefully.

"It's a date," he promises.

**

**Author's Note:**

Tristan is such a cute character—it's such a shame he doesn't get more screen time. His throwaway lines are the glue that holds the group's slapstick adventures together at times, and I am SO glad he's got a better voice than in the beginning of the series, when the voice actors seemed to be playing "musical scripts"—an occurrence that isn't uncommon in dubbed anime, unfortunately. I think he's so cute with Serenity, and Joey's so protective of her that he doesn't even realize it. 

I don't know all that much about Serenity as a character—her appearances have been sadly limited in the episodes that I have seen, but I think she's quite strong in her own quiet way, and therefore is cool. And she and Tristan are just too adorable together. Reason enough for a fic! *^_^*

Now for something I've never done before *^_^* Thank-yous. I really appreciate all the reviews I've gotten so far, and I'm glad my story's being enjoyed. So, thank you, everyone:

**DarkWings of Faith:** I'm so glad you like my work! And don't worry—I suck at DDR too, but isn't it so fun to play? *^_^* I'm a big fan of your work as well, and can't wait to see more of it.

**Tea Fan: **I'm not sure how many chapters I'm doing—as many characters and pairings as I can think of, hopefully. I'm going to post Pegasus next, but after that I'm a bit stuck for ideas. Any suggestions? Oh, and to answer your question re Dance Dance Revolution: it has mixes for both the Playstation and the Playstation 2, and I definitely recommend it because it is SO much fun to play—I'm so badly addicted to it that I just bid on two dance pads for it on Ebay. *^_^* Also, I totally recommend getting "Yu-Gi-Oh! Forbidden Memories", too—it's really fun but VERY addictive. It's part of the reason I got a C in medieval literature.

**Y Sunfire:** The Tea/Yami pairing is my favorite pairing, too. I've got another one-shot about them in the works, but it's not done yet. Damn school. I can't believe I'm paying college tuition to sit in renaissance lit and write "Yu-Gi-Oh!" fics. *^_^* Higher learning, indeed.

**Daughter of the Moon:** Maybe we should start a bit of a support group—Kaiba Lovers Anonymous or something. Mmm...Kaiba. 

**Lena:** I'm so glad you liked the story—I was a bit worried about Mai's chapter because it was the hardest for me to write, but your kind words are a big encouragement. Thanks!

**CybErdrAgOn:** Thanks for the tips on Ishizu! Constructive criticism is such a compliment to me, because it tells me the reader's really paying attention. I watched the episode with Ishizu again after reading your review, and you're absolutely right. Her eyes are blue-green; I wonder how I missed it? I guess I just got caught up in the description. And yeah, her necklace DOES look kind of pointy—she must have had to practice a bit before wearing it.

**Indigo Tantarian:** I think you're so right about Malik—if he can make _Kaiba_ sound like a pushover, I wouldn't want to meet him in the lounge or something. He'd probably make me cry. *^_^* He's such a cutie, though, even through the evilness. I think I want to be a little like Mai, too—you know, challenging people to do their best, no matter what. Thank you so much for your kind words, it's very encouraging to me. By the way, your story "Three In One Combo" is amazing. Ankh and Scale are such cuties!

**Aqua Rosewater:** Here you go, Aqua, a Tristan/Serenity! I hope it didn't disappoint you. Next will be Pegasus, and after that I'm stuck, so if you've got any suggestions I'd be happy to hear them. I was thinking maybe doing one from Joey's point of view, even though Mai's already had a turn. And yes, the YGO cast members are just a bunch of sexy bishies *^_^* There's no two ways around it, so we might as well embrace it. Mmm....bishounen.

**Kage NoTenshi:** Thank you so much for your reviews! Like constructive criticism, a review of every chapter tells me that the reader is really paying attention. Thank you for that compliment! I don't know how I came up with the thought that the Dark Magician Girl is avenging the Dark Magician, but I do know I felt very sad for her after that. I think they are an amazing dynamic, the Dark Magician and the Dark Magician Girl—they remind me of Tea and Yami for some reason. I'm so glad you like the story!

**

Thank you, everyone! Your kind words are a great inspiration to me. *^_^*

Serena.


	6. Ink and Paint: Maximilian Pegasus

Disclaimer: I do not own "Yu-Gi-Oh!", Sir Philip Sidney's _Astrophel and Stella_, or any cartoon references that may be the property of Warner Brothers. I have this weird mental image of being sued by Daffy Duck in a Brooks Brothers suit, but all he would get would be my _Shonen Jump_s and my new DDR dance pads, because I spent all my remaining money on them. Hi, my name is Serena, and I have an addiction to Ebay...

This portion of the fic takes place at the end of the Duelist Kingdom arc, during Pegasus' duel with Yugi and contains elements of the episode where Tristan, Tea and Bakura play Charlie's Angels and go investigate the north tower (something I found very funny for some reason. "Hey, Tristan, that's my leg!" "Climb faster, then!"). 

**

**Love Gave the Wound**

**

Ink and Paint: Maximilian Pegasus

**

_Biting my trewand pen, beating myself for spite,_

_"Fool," said my muse to me, "look in thy heart and write."_

(Sir Philip Sidney, from _Astrophel and Stella_)

**

They don't understand. They have no golden eyes to open windows in my mind, and so they do not understand. How could they ever understand—Yugi, with his loudmouthed cheerleader constantly yelling encouragement from the sidelines; Kaiba with adoration and hero-worship shining in his younger brother's eyes? They take such devotion, such unconditional love for granted, just as I did. I had such love once.

Then it was cruelly stolen from me. That's what's driven me to this point—contrary to popular belief, I'm not crazy. I've simply been diagnosed with chronic heartbreak, and am still looking for the cure. In the meantime, I soothe my bleeding soul with cartoons.

Wonderful things, cartoons. Everything is brightly colored and the music is always up-tempo. The good guys are always fluffy and cuddly; the bad guys are easily identified by their shifty eyes and frowning faces. And no one ever, ever dies. Characters fall off cliffs and get hit by cars, smash each other with hammers, blast holes in each other with shotguns, pop up smiling from under a fallen piano, ready for more fun and games.

Kaiba doesn't understand. When the Blue-Eyes Toon Dragon emerged transformed from Toon World, the look of horror on his face was almost comical. "You've stripped him of his pride!" he said accusingly. 

Quite the contrary, Kaiba-boy—I'd done that dragon the greatest service possible, one I myself would sell my soul to have.

_No pain_.

"Everyone knows," I told him, "that the cutest characters never get hit by the hammer." And even if they did, so what? A few canaries flutter around their heads for a minute, and then everything's all better. Lucky dragon, to be free from pain!

But I can't be drawn and colored more brightly; that magic is not mine to command, and it probably wouldn't help me. Even cartoon bunnies can't raise the dead.

It's hard to say it, even now. I must have her eyes upon me at all times in my private rooms, so that her oil-paint gaze makes me forget that she is no longer with me. At times during the night the paintings seem to exist on a separate plane from me, a window into a world I can't enter. She seems about to move or speak.

But the paints are oils, and Cecilia is no cartoon. How could she be? She was struck down so unfairly, so early, paralyzing my paints forever. No, she was very real, and now she is simply a distant dream, a wall hanging with eyes that follow me through the rooms. 

Those rooms are my private kingdom, my sanctuary, and so I was quite surprised when intruders broke in last night. I don't know what they were looking for, but I recognized them—Yugi's friends, the cheerleader, the ringbearer, the tall one who'd led them there. 

It was the girl who noticed the paintings first. "Look at this!"

I felt insanely jealous as I sensed their presence, their thoughts. I didn't want these high-school half-wits looking at Cecilia, wondering about her.

"She's beautiful," the holder of the ring mused quietly. "I wonder who she is?"

That, child, is the woman I loved.

"Whoever she is, she's everywhere!" the other boy said.

No, you fool. She is nowhere. I've searched and searched for years and come up with nothing, no way to bring her back. I don't need her to be everywhere. I simply want her here. But all my efforts have proved to be futile.

The woman I loved is...dead.

Suddenly I wanted these children out of my rooms, away from my obsessive paintings, out of this very _realm_ forever. 

I am no cartoon, but if I were, any attempts to exchange my soul for Cecilia would result in my eyes turning white and popping up like cash-register tabs bearing the legend, "No Sale". Instead, I trap as many other souls as I can, knowing that each one I send to the Shadow Realm brings me ever closer to my goal, and I decided last night that those three children would not escape.

However, something went wrong, and my memory is capricious about it. I remember the girl's shocked eyes, the tall boy's fists cocked, ready for battle, and a laugh that might have been the owner of the ring's. But that's all, and I woke alone, as usual, in a universe of paintings that could never satisfy me. A graveyard of my own making, and every headstone bears her name, every marble angel has her face.

No, they would never understand.

"What's that you're muttering?" Yugi Motou's voice calls from across the arena. We are just about to duel, to face-off in the final battle, and I've never felt more detached. Yugi, on the other hand, is hyperaware of everything, looking incredibly small beneath that enormous Millenium Puzzle. It threatens to bow that little spine, and yet he's stood tall through far worse than I could throw at him, I think. The anger in his eyes is old and tired. I'm simply another bully to overcome, one more jerk he has to teach some respect to. He has no idea.

I draw my cards, the pictures almost as well-known to me as the obsessive paintings that line my private rooms. How noble Yugi thinks he is, dueling for someone he loves. But so do I; am I less noble than he is? Who determines which of us deserves victory more?

I almost feel sorry for the little rotter. He thinks everything is black and white, but he really doesn't have a clue as to why I'm _really_ doing all this. If he did, he'd know that the stakes are even higher than they seem. I cast a glance over at the cheerleader, her hand pressed over her heart as if she's trying to hold it inside her chest. Her eyes are fixed intently on Yugi and myself as we lay down cards and call out plays; she looks afraid to blink. I look back at Yugi, and all I can think of is a tired cliché. He'll understand when he's older.

Old. I feel old as I draw on my powers to rattle him a little bit. The sooner I defeat him, the sooner I can be left alone with my misery. "Ah. Could that be the Dark Magician you've just drawn? That will go wonderfully with the Celtic Guardian, Spellbinding Circle, Komouri Dragon, and Feral Imp cards in your hand."

Yugi's brows meet over his nose, but he bravely tries to stare me down. I can't help but chuckle, and Yugi, in a rare show of frustration, shakes his head and says through gritted teeth, "You..._suck_."

I can't help but chuckle harder, hearing a jagged edge of hysteria in my voice. The poor little bastard. There's nothing he can do—how can he stand up to my Eye when he doesn't even know the half of his Puzzle's power? 

I taunt him some more, as if this is all very boring to me. "Come on, Yugi-boy. Even Kaiba did better than this. He was hunting wabbits. Huh-huh-huh..." I throw in a bad Elmer Fudd impression. The poor kid looks ready to clamp his hands over his ears and scream. Welcome to my every waking moment, Yugi-boy.

He doesn't scream, though—someone else beats him to it.

"Shut _up_!" the cheerleader screams, as if she can't take it anymore either. She leans over the rail as if she would hit me if only she could get close enough. "Shut up! Shut up! Oh God, can't you just shut up!"

The others hold her back, and it makes me shake with laughter—three boys can't keep one little girl under control. The murder in her eyes is unmistakable—I believe she'd truly fight me if she could to save Yugi from me. 

It makes me wonder about love. How can it take so many different paths? 

Yugi's dueling me and risking his own soul because he cares about his grandfather. Kaiba dueled me and lost his soul because he cared about his little brother. Joey Wheeler dueled Yugi, his best friend, because he cares about his sister. The girl on the balcony is still cursing me, her eyes full of tears, because she cares about Yugi. 

And I'm dueling because I care about Cecilia and would do anything to bring her back.

Maybe love doesn't take such different paths after all. Everyone in this room has loved in different ways, and yet, here we all are, in the same place.

Yugi's voice, ragged with suffering and fear and determination, startles me from my reverie. "Make your move, Pegasus."

"You are truly eager for someone who's about to suffer a truly horrific defeat." And it's true—I've just drawn my prized Toon World card, the one that smashed Kaiba with the failure that cost him his soul. I smile at the card, knowing my expression has nothing to do with happiness, and then turn the grin to Yugi.

_That's all, folks_...

**

**Author's Note:**

I was all prepared to hate Pegasus until Tèa finds his journal in the episode that debuts Shadi. After she reads it, Pegasus becomes such a sympathetic character—you wonder what he was like in those meadows with Cecilia, what nickname she used to call him, if they had a song that was just theirs. And you've got to love his dogma on the glories of cartoons. I agree with him totally. Cartoons rule—and we all know it, because if they didn't, it's a cinch I wouldn't be writing and you wouldn't be reading this fic. *^_^*

Reviews are greatly appreciated! Next up will be my beloved Joey, who was nice enough to distract me during my Tragedy and Religion class. I don't think I really knew the meaning of the word "disaster" until I tried to give my presentation on Ibsen...draw your own conclusions. *^_^*


	7. In My Pocket: Joey Wheeler

Disclaimer: I don't own "Yu-Gi-Oh!" or Sir Philip Sidney's _Astrophel and Stella_. I'm getting really tired of saying that.

This portion of the fic takes place in the Duelist Kingdom finals—Joey's supposed to duel Bandit Keith but can't find his stolen Glory of the King's Hand card (Gotta love Joey—"Hey, let go of that!...That's my pizza."). However, he needn't worry—someone's looking out for him...

**

**Love Gave the Wound**

**

In My Pocket: Joey Wheeler

**

_Profess in deed I do not Cupid's art:_

_But you fair maids, at length this true shall find,_

_That his right badge is but worn in the heart._

(Sir Philip Sidney, from _Astrophel and Stella_)

**

That's _it_. It's _over_. I'm _finished_. I can't believe I have done _so_ much and come _so _far and now I have to _stop_.

I'm on my hands and knees in the hallway, staring into a carpet that's the same obnoxious color as Pegasus' suit. The scent of the carpet is tickling my nose and making my eyes sting.

Yeah, right. I just don't want to admit that I'm crying.

But I can't help it! This sucks! I've come such a long way and now I'm not going to get to duel because I lost a lousy _playing card_? That's like getting tackled on the one-yard line! What _good_ is it to fight so hard and still lose?!

Oh, man, Serenity, I'm so sorry!...

Someone's watching me, but I'm rubbing at my eyes with a fist, so I don't see her right away. It takes me a second to see her heels biting into the carpet, leaving little stab wounds as if it's purposeful.

"Hi there," Mai Valentine says. Her voice has always been thick and sweet as honey, but this is more gentle than I've ever heard it.

"Great," I mutter. "You're right on time to kick me when I'm down." I stare angrily up at her, and if the tears are still in my eyes, I don't care if she sees. "Come on, enjoy it, Mai. You were right about me all along. Joey Wheeler, the loser!"

She actually kneels beside me. It's the first time she's ever actively joined me on my own level. "I don't think you're a loser, Joey," just as gently as before.

I want to snort, to scoff, but I hear myself sniffling wrathfully and asking, "You don't?"

She shakes her blonde head, waves of gold swishing back and forth. "No. I mean, there _are_ elements of the idiotic about you, but that's what makes you..._Joey_." She smiles a little and pulls me to my feet. "Now come on, you big dork, get up. You've got a duel to play. Cowering in the corner is _so_ geeky."

I bite down on a smile. She's Mai again, sugar and spice but not always nice. She's cheering me up and I don't want her to. I want to wallow in my misery, and she doesn't know a thing about it. "Nope. Not going back in there. Not gonna happen."

Mai stamps her booted foot, wounding the floor with her heel. "Joey Wheeler, you stubborn ass! If I say black, you'll just say white. Maybe I should tell you to quit! Would that make you go in?"

"I _want_ to go in," I say quietly. "Don't you think I wanna go in? I want that more than I've ever wanted _anything_." I feel my eyes filling again. "I just can't, okay?"

Mai ducks her head, suddenly very interested in the state of her shoes. "Tèa told me about your sister," she says, her voice gentle again, and I'm surprised. 

"You're going to let her down?" Mai continues, raising violet eyes to me. "Come on, Joey. Look at all you've done. You said you were going to help your sister, and now you're in the perfect position to. You beat me and you beat Rex and you're in the _finals_ now, Joey. You came to win and you _won_!"

I feel as though I'm sunbathing, basking in her praise. If only a pep talk was really what I needed—this one is a gem. "Thanks, Mai."

"So why are you crying in the hallway when you're at the finish line?" she asks, shrugging.

I snap my head up. "I am _not_ crying," I snarl. "The carpet shampoo is annoying me—and there's something in my eye." I rub at my eyes again. "And the stupid thing won't come out—"

She reaches deftly into her blouse, pulling a folded handkerchief from her cleavage. It's not the thrill a minute it would be for me under normal circumstances, and I blink wearily at her as she presses the handkerchief into my hand. "Here you go. Just don't blow your nose in it or anything," she snickers with a smile. 

I look at the handkerchief, then at her, slipping it into my pocket. "Thank you."

"Keep it. I don't need it anymore. Want to know a secret?" she asks, and the change of subject is too quick for me. I blink dumbly at her again and she says, "I was hoping it wouldn't come to this, and I'll deny I ever said it, but…I believe in you."

Gaping at her, I ask, "Mai...does this mean we're friends now?"

She's already turning, walking down the hallway. She mustn't have heard me. 

_I believe in you_. 

I realize, watching her proud posture as she walks away, that it took a lot of guts for her to tell me that. The least I can do is repay her faith, and be just as brave as she is. I decide to go in and face the music, but I don't want that wack job Pegasus or that goon Bandit Keith to see that I've been crying, so I fish in my pocket for the handkerchief Mai gave me. Unfolding it, I find a treasure inside.

A card with a picture of treasure, to be exact—Glory of the King's Hand!

I snap my head up and dash down the hallway, looking for Mai. She's almost out the door, but her voice carries. "I told you, I don't need it anymore." Then she turns, spearing me with those violet eyes, and smirks. "Dork. Of course we're friends."

I don't know what to say, and all I can do is stammer, "Mai—thanks!"

She taps her wrist as if indicating a watch. "Don't you have a duel to get to?"

Oh, yeah—the duel! I almost forgot! I turn and race back to the arena, just as the clock ticks to ten fifty-nine.

"Joey!" my friends cheer. Pegasus looks mildly surprised, and Bandit Keith looks as though he's swallowed a Leghul. A big, squirming Leghul.

"How could he have found that card?" Keith snarls.

I hold the card up and grin. "Maybe I've just got a guardian angel standing by." My friends laugh, but it's no joke.

_Thanks, Mai._

**

**Author's Note:**

Joey Wheeler is so great. I want him to be my best friend. I think Yugi's so lucky to have such a good and loyal pal. There are very few people in the world who are just genuinely good souls; whatever it is that makes those good souls up, Joey's it. I love Mai's words as he runs back into the arena—"Dork. Of course we're friends." The idea for this story came to me after I embarrassed myself in public with a disastrous class presentation. Joey stuck around to make me feel better after I slunk back to my chair, and we wrote this. It reminded me of the last time I went roller skating with my friends or laughed really hard at something. *^_^*

I'm stuck for ideas again….waaaah! I think next I'll finally give Yugi the chapter he's been asking me for—poor thing, everyone else got to go before he did! *^_^* And then I'm stuck again. I'd love to do a chapter on Shadi or Malik, but I'm not sure how to go about it. Suggestions, candy or large sums of money can be sent to me at shapeshifter883@netzero.net. Reviews would be greatly appreciated. *^_^*


	8. Strangers In My Way: Yugi Motou

**Author's Introduction:**

(Firestar turns from her drafting board to address the audience.) Yeah. I'm as surprised as you are.

* * *

**Love Gave The Wound**

**

* * *

**

Strangers In My Way: Yugi Motou

* * *

_But words came halting forth, wanting Invention's stay;  
Invention, Nature's child, fled step-dame Study's blows,  
And others' feet still seemed but strangers in my way._

(Sir Philip Sidney, from _Astrophel__ and Stella_)

* * *

He has taken over my life, and I can't get it back. 

It's the end of the school day. The classroom's empty. Everyone's gone home.

Everyone but me, that is.

Everyone but me, and Kokoranno, and...me.

The _other_ me, that is—the other mysterious me, who always knows exactly what to say, exactly what to do. Everything about him is almost _too_ cool, _too_ skillful—his wrists flick languidly as he deals cards; his hands are graceful as he rolls dice. His eyes can see down to the depths of people's souls, and his silver tongue always has a witty remark for his opponent.

Today's opponent is Kokoranno, a tiny man with beady eyes that scan like nervous radar as he deals out his Post-It note predictions to his unsuspecting fans. He smirks at me from beneath his wild hair, but his panic is almost touchable as we face each other over a desk piled high with papers and a bottle of chloroform.

I hate the bottle of chloroform, wanting to grab it and dash it on the tiled floor in a fit of rage. I'm furious with the reason Kokoranno had the cholroform to begin with, the lust in his eyes as...

I shake the thoughts away. Kokoranno will get his. I've no doubt of that. He's a phony pretending to be a psychic, but he has to work a bit hard to make his predictions come true. I can still feel my skin prickle as the bookcases fell like enormous obscene dominoes in the library, eager to crush me beneath their weight. Luckily, I managed to escape, and now there's no need to worry anymore, is there? The _other _me is here now. He'll solve everything. I won't have to...

...do...

...anything.

The first flame of dissatisfaction licks at my mind.

Just for once, I wish this other me would let me fight my own battles. Just because I'm not tall and dark and enigmatic like _him—_does that mean I don't get a chance?

No one invited him here! No one asked _him_ to just waltz in here and play games with my life like this! Doesn't he realize that if his graceful wrists pull even one sheet of paper the wrong way and that chloroform bottle shatters on the floor, that it will be _me_ who's prone and helpless on the floor?! I'm not expecting him to stick around for the aftermath if it goes wrong.

It's not that I'm not grateful for his help. I didn't always like being me—it's hard to be Yugi Motou, that short, shy pushover, that lonely, sad little wimp. But it was _my_ life. I was _me_. Now this newer, cooler Yugi has somehow risen up to take my place, and I don't know how. If he wanted my life, he could take it. I'm not strong enough, not brave enough to compete with him.

If _he's_ Yugi, what do I get to be?

It wasn't much of a life, but it was my life, and if he takes it away I've got nothing.

Not to mention, of course, the fact that he keeps _risking_ aforementioned life in crazy, perilous games! Each time the stakes climb higher and higher, as if he's addicted, as if he can't get enough of the ecstasy of danger. What does he have to worry about anyway? It's my body, my friends, my risk.

The chloroform bottle suddenly splinters to dust on the floor in front of not me, but Kokoranno. He's swaying, dizzy, lost in his own fantasy of true psychic powers, but let him dream. I've won the game—well, one of me has won the game. And to my fury, it is that other me who's hurrying across the room to claim the prize.

Through his—my—our—eyes, I see the motivation for today's dangerous game. And for once, I absolve him completely of any blame I would ordinarily lay on him for taking his wild risks. The motivation, his reason, is something we have in common. Possibly the only thing we have in common. It's something—someone—I would risk my life for, too.

Tea is lying on the floor, eyelashes dark crescents on her pale face, crumpled like a broken doll against the tiles. She looks so fragile, so alone. Who wouldn't want to help this beautiful girl—who wouldn't risk their life for her?

But I _haven_'t risked my life for her—he wouldn't give me the chance. He walks on _my_ feet across the room to her, lying unconscious on the tiled floor, her glossy hair spread beneath her flushed cheek as she slumbers, unaware of the battle for her that has just gone on. He lifts her into _my_ arms so he can hold her, uses _my_ hands to brush her bangs away from her closed eyes, to stroke her cheek. It's _my_ eyes that are resting so kindly on her, but _he's_ the one who's looking.

"And over here...we have a sleeping beauty!" he chuckles, cradling her against his—my—shoulder. I'm furious with him, want him to put Tea down, _now_. I don't think he'll hurt her, but I don't want him calling her beautiful, dragging his knuckles down her cheek. I don't want him looking at her with that emotion in the eyes we're currently sharing. He has no _right_ to do this—to take my body, my world, my life, my Tea!

"A sleeping beauty..." he murmurs again, pressing his cheek to hers briefly before closing his eyes. I can feel him relaxing, relinquishing control to me. How magnanimous of the body-snatcher, to let me have a turn! I could hit him. And he doesn't even _know_. That's the worst part! He doesn't mean it...

"Yugi?" Tea asks sleepily, blinking up at me. I find myself in full control of myself again, my arms suddenly full of her. She's confused, patiently waiting for me to tell her why I'm kneeling on the floor, cradling her against me. I hug her close, happy to be able to feel her warmth. Happy to be able to feel.

"You fainted, Tea," I say simply, not wanting to talk about it. "It'll be okay."

"Okay," she says dazedly, trustingly. I help her up, one arm possessively tight around her waist, and together we head for the classroom door, giving her the illusion that she's doing the walking, when actually it's all me.

"Thank you, Yugi," she says, her voice soft and drowsy still, leaning her slight weight against me.

My heart has never been heavier as I reply gravely,

"Don't thank me."

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

**How this really happened:** I was talking back and forth with a friend on DeviantART, and she said, "I didn't know you were a _Yu-Gi-Oh!_ fan."

"Oh, sure," I said. "I love the early YGO manga in _Shonen__ Jump_, I've got tons…I even wrote a few fics back in the day." And then I remembered this story, and realized with a bit of a start that I'd forgotten one of the most important characters—Yugi himself! This chapter has actually been written for about sixteen seasons, and I just never put it up. Shame on me; now that's a wrong I just had to right.

**The technical stuff:** I know that this early in the manga, Yugi has no knowledge of the spirit living inside the Millennium Puzzle. However, it served this chapter's purpose better if he did. That's just creative license on my part.

Come sit with me, Yugi. Have a cup of tea and keep me company; I fear the shining wire tonight. There is no question, you are my friend.


End file.
